


Sweetest Downfall

by angelsaves



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Haircuts, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:10:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsaves/pseuds/angelsaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jeff Skinner's new look was bad luck? He'd probably end up bursting into his captain's room and demanding a haircut, and then hijinks would ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetest Downfall

**Author's Note:**

> quote from eric staal on jeff skinner starting the season with long hair: [He’s got the long locks going, but man I don’t know we’ll see how many goals he scores otherwise we’ll have to cut it off](http://boldmatter.tumblr.com/post/40977697547/i-dont-know-hes-got-a-fabio-thing-going-with). 
> 
> title from "samson" by regina spektor, because i couldn't resist.

This is it, Jeff decides. He's not going to put up with this awful streak any longer. He knocks on the door that connects his room and Eric's, scissors in hand. 

Eric opens it, dressed for bed, and looks at him strangely. "What's up, Skins?" he asks, running one hand through his hair.

"You said, if I didn't score," Jeff says, and he shows Eric the scissors he picked up at the pharmacy. "I haven't scored, I haven't even made a decent shot on goal, so it's bye-bye Fabio."

Eric blinks at him, then says, "Come in."

Jeff does, pretending he's way less nervous about invading Eric's space like this than he is. 

"You know I wasn't serious --" Eric begins.

"Yeah, but I am," Jeff says over him. "What if it makes a difference?"

"I don't know how to cut hair!"

"How hard can it be?" Jeff pulls a lock of his hair out and mimes snipping it with his fingers. "You take the scissors, you cut it. It's not like I'm expecting some kind of _style_ here, Staal."

"If you're sure," Eric says. "I mean, I could just take you to the barber tomorrow instead."

"This is symbolic," Jeff insists. "If you fuck it up, you can always take me to the barber anyway."

"Okay, fine." Eric holds his hands up in mock surrender. "We should do this in the bathroom, right?"

"Yes!" Jeff cheers. "And yeah, probably. Here, we can drag the desk chair in."

He ends up sitting kind of precariously on the back of the chair, with his feet on the seat, so Eric doesn't have to bend in half to reach his head. He drapes a towel over his shoulders like a cape and hands Eric the scissors.

Eric studies them for a second. "What, you were expecting safety scissors?" Jeff teases. "Were you a paste-eater in kindergarten?"

"I'll paste-eater you," Eric says, which is so nonsensical that Jeff has to laugh. "Now, hold still, or you might lose an ear."

Jeff stills himself obediently, and lets Eric push his head down a little. He feels more than hears the first snip, and the slight coolness on the back of his neck that means the end of Eric comparing him to the "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" guy.

When he looks up at the mirror, Eric has his deep concentration face on, like he's about to try to Brind'Amour the faceoff. Jeff's kind of pleased. It's not like he hasn't thought about having that focus turned on him, even if he didn't imagine it like this.

"Move your head -- yeah, like that," Eric says, pushing Jeff's head over to the left. The snips get closer to Jeff's ear, Eric's long fingers carding through his hair gently but firmly.

"Hey, you don't suck at this," Jeff says once he can see the side of his head.

"Give me time," Eric jokes, and Jeff laughs. It feels nice, letting Eric touch him like this. Jeff imagines the curse on his scoring drifting to the floor like the little clumps of hair.

Finally, Eric says, "I think I'm done." He still has one hand on the side of Jeff's face, though, like he might not be done moving it around yet.

Jeff glances down at the piles of hair on the floor, then up at his reflection, which looks unfamiliar without the flow -- but not in a bad way. "I like it," he says, meeting Eric's dark eyes in the mirror.

"Yeah?" Eric grins, and God, has his mouth been that red all night? Jeff wants to kiss him like crazy.

Well, it's a crazy kind of night anyway. Jeff stares at Eric's lips and asks, "Can I kiss you?"

Eric's fingers tighten a tiny bit on Jeff's cheek. "What?"

"I said, can I kiss you?" Jeff repeats, pushing his face into Eric's hand a little.

"What?" Eric says again, then, "I -- what? Jeff. Yes." He leans down and presses his mouth to Jeff's, awkwardly, but Jeff returns it with enthusiasm, twisting to wrap his arms around Eric's neck --

\-- and the chair flips over, dumping them into the bathtub in an ungraceful heap. Jeff starts to laugh even before he's checked himself for injuries -- none, thank goodness. "That was a good one," he says. "Are you okay?"

Eric is laughing too. "I'm great," he says. "Did that fall knock some sense into your head, or do you, um..."

"Yes," Jeff says. He's mostly on top of Eric already, so he just has to rearrange his knees a little to straddle him and press him back against the tile, and try to kiss that dumb grin off his face.

It doesn't work, or at least it hasn't by the time Jeff's boner is demanding attention. "Hey, want to move this someplace more... good?" he suggests helplessly.

"Yeah," Eric says, bucking his hips up against Jeff's. "Like my bed."

"Awesome," Jeff says. He scrambles out of the tub -- seriously, how does this happen? -- and helps Eric out once he's upright. Before he can get out to the bedroom, though, Eric backs against the door and pulls Jeff to him. Jeff goes willingly, pressing Eric harder into the door and kissing his neck where his stretched-out T-shirt leaves it exposed.

"I have condoms and lube," Eric says into Jeff's ear. "You could fuck me, if you wanted."

By a supreme effort of will -- okay, and practice -- Jeff manages not to come right there, humping Eric's leg like a teenager. "Yeah," he says. "Holy shit. Yeah."

He can feel Eric's smile against his cheek. "You have to move first," Eric points out, and even though he could probably shift Jeff if he really wanted to, Jeff takes a step back.

"Can I..." Jeff swallows. "Can I watch you get yourself ready?"

Eric closes his eyes for a moment and says, "Fuck. Yeah."

"You like that idea too, huh?" Jeff says, watching the flush rise in Eric's cheeks.

"Maybe," Eric says, but the speed with which he gets out the lube and takes off his pants hints that he means _really a lot_.

"Shirt, too," Jeff says, leaning against the bureau. "I want to see if that blush goes all the way down."

"Fuck you, you know it does," Eric says, but he takes it off anyway, then leans back against the pillows. The blush does go all the way down his chest. Jeff likes it.

He takes his time opening himself up, which Jeff didn't expect. He thought Eric would be impatient about it, not exactly rushing, but getting it done fast. Instead, Eric's drawing it out, making it last.

"Like what you see?" Eric asks, giving Jeff a smile that's probably supposed to be sleazy, but just looks turned on. His fingers disappear inside of him, and Jeff has to press the heel of his hand against his dick.

"I think I do," Jeff says. "Are you..."

"I'm ready," Eric says quickly. Jeff undresses and grabs the condom Eric took out from the foot of the bed, while Eric arranges himself on his hands and knees. 

"Is that how you like it?" Jeff asks, rolling the condom on and slicking himself up.

"I like it plenty of ways," Eric says over his shoulder. "I want it like this, right now."

Jeff files that thought away for later. "Cool," he says, and admires Eric's ass for a second. "Right now, huh? You don't feel like waiting?"

Eric groans. "Jeff," he says.

"What?" Jeff asks innocently. He kneels on the bed behind Eric, getting close enough to feel the heat coming off him. "You want something from me?"

" _Jeff,_ " Eric says again. He arches his back and presses closer to Jeff. "Come on, stick it in already, you... you tease."

Jeff laughs. "Okay," he says, and braces one hand on Eric's hip while he thrusts in, just a tiny bit.

"Nnngh," Eric says eloquently, and rocks back, fucking himself on Jeff's dick.

"Hey," Jeff says, slapping the curve of Eric's ass lightly. "You got to go slow with yourself, let me take my time."

"I don't want you to take your time," Eric says. "We can do that later."

"Later, eh?" Jeff likes the sound of that. "If you insist." He thrusts again, driving himself into Eric's tight heat, and fuck, it feels good. It feels good to Eric, too, he assumes, from the ripple that goes down his back. He wants to hear it, though. "You like that?"

"Yeah, I like it," Eric says hoarsely. "C'mon, Skinner, put your back into it."

Jeff gets a better grip on Eric's hips. "You asked for it," he says, and starts fucking him harder. Eric makes an appreciative groan under him, and Jeff grins, even though Eric can't see it.

"Oh God," Eric says, "more." He's clenching around Jeff, and there are little rivers of sweat running down his back.  Jeff wants to lick him. 

"Fuck," he says fervently, and bends forward to do it.

Eric gasps and arches into it. "Do that again," he says.

Jeff licks him again, and reaches around to take Eric's dick in his hand, too. His rhythm isn't the greatest, but from the noises Eric's making, that's not too big a deal.

"Oh God, oh, Jeff, I'm gonna come," Eric says, and Jeff mentally pats himself on the back for his consideration.

"Good," Jeff says, "I want you to." Eric's dick jerks in his hand. Jeff feels the hot spill of come. "Oh, fuck, Eric," he says, and then he's coming and leaning down to press his mouth between Eric's shoulderblades as he does.

He pulls out, and Eric slumps down with his face in the pillows. Jeff tosses the condom and cleans up, bringing out a wet washcloth for Eric, who takes it without moving anything but his arm.

"So... thanks," Jeff says awkwardly.

Eric laughs and sits up. "For what? That was pretty great for me, too."

"Good," Jeff says. He runs a hand through -- no, over, now -- his hair. "I mean, me too."

"If I'd known this would happen, I would have cut your hair off three games ago," Eric says, and when Jeff looks at him, he's grinning like an idiot.

Jeff can't help but grin back. "Better wait and see if it worked, first," he says.

"Well, if it does," Eric says, "I'd like to apply to be your private hairdresser." He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

"Hmm," Jeff says, considering it. "Do you work for blowjobs?"

"Sure, if we can sleep in your bed tonight," Eric says. "No wet spot."

"Done." Jeff shakes his hand.

When he falls asleep, it's with Eric's breath ruffling his short hair and visions of morning blowjobs dancing in his head.


End file.
